


Reach Inside (to Feel a Beating Heart)

by quillingyousoftly



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Bleeding Out, Blood and Gore, Cute, Happy Ending, Jack always a romantic, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death, Romantic Fluff, life-threatening injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 20:43:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20588804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quillingyousoftly/pseuds/quillingyousoftly
Summary: Literally what it says on the tin.





	Reach Inside (to Feel a Beating Heart)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kalika_999](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/gifts).

> Happy birthday! Would you believe I also started three fics? This is the third one. The other two weren't going so great, but I hope to finish at least one in future.  
I hope I didn't overdo it with the "bad" tags and you'll like it ^^ Really, it's cute. No worries 😊

It happens in the middle of nowhere. 

They're driving through the desert in three unmarked cars; Elfman and Lewis in the first one, Brock and Jack in the middle one, Mercer and Bourne in the last one. Brock has been behind the wheel for eight hours and is becoming less and less alert. He's silently debating ordering a short break so the drivers can switch with the passengers, but after hours of complaining about the sun, the heat, the sand, and the local music, Jack has finally dozed off, so Brock hesitates.

A second later the car in front of them explodes, the force of it throwing them back; they hit the car behind them and tumble down the road. Brock must lose consciousness for a moment, because the next thing he knows, their car is still, and his head feels like it’s split in half. He takes a deep breath and coughs out some dust; his ribs hurt, too, from the seat belt stopping him from falling through the windshield which has shattered, letting dust and sand inside the car.

"Jack?" Brock looks to his right and his heart stops.

There's a huge shard of glass lodged in Jack's chest, and blood drips down his olive green t-shirt. His eyes are closed, but when Brock calls his name again in a more panicked voice, they slowly open. 

"Thank god," Brock breathes, undoes his seat belt, then fights with the door for a while before forcing it open. "Hang on, I'll get you out!"

He looks around when he exits the car. It makes him dizzy, and he grabs the door so as not to fall. His vision darkens around the edges, and he blinks hard, then tries to regulate his breath. It more or less works, so he looks up again.

About two hundred yards away, the remains of the first car are burning, and Brock knows that all there is to find inside are charred bodies of his teammates. Another two hundred yards to his nine, the car they hit lies on its hood. Brock turns on his comm that's still attached to his ear.

"Mercer, do you copy?" he asks, circling the car to Jack's side. His door is scratched but not dented, and it opens easier. "Mercer," he barks to his comm again, then leans in towards Jack.

Jack has been following him with his gaze, and his eyes are hooded as he looks up at him now, brows scrunched up in pain. Brock doubts he's fully aware of what's just happened. He isn't sure in what exact state they both are himself, just that his legs seem to be working, he needs to get Jack out of the car, and Mercer isn't answering.

"I'll take you out, okay?" he says softly, and after Jack nods, he gingerly grabs his shoulders. 

The first pull results in a loud groan of pain. The glass inches out of Jack's chest, the clear surface stained red, and Brock stops. He ducks his head inside and instantly realizes what's the problem: the windshield is still attached to the hood of the car.

He quickly analyzes the pros and cons of pulling it out of Jack’s chest. The glass blocks most of his bleeding, but on the other hand, Brock can't stop it with it still inside, and it'll need to be out for Mercer to patch him up, anyway. Provided Mercer is alive.

"Mercer, do you copy?" he repeats. "Mercer, I need you."

This time, a weak voice answers him. "I copy."

Brock breathes a sigh of relief. "I need a medic."

"That makes two of us." 

He frowns. "What's your status?"

"I'm not sure. Give me a minute."

He rests his hand on Jack's shoulder to let him know he's not going anywhere and straightens up. Far away, he can see Mercer crawl out through the window. She gets to her feet, looks around, and spots him. She raises a thumbs up.

"I'm okay, boss," she says.

Brock nods to himself and ducks down to look at Jack again. "Help's coming," he tells him. "I need to remove the glass. It'll hurt."

Jack's looking back with trusting eyes as he nods again. It's a look that stabs Brock's heart like a knife, but he swallows down a bitter taste that suddenly floods his mouth and focuses on his task. He briefly thinks of his tactical fingerless gloves now trapped in the trunk before he grabs the windshield bare-handed and pulls. The scream Jack lets out is heart-wrenching, but Brock only grits his teeth and keeps going.

It's fully out of Jack's chest, and blood floods his wound, when Mercer speaks up again. 

"Boss, Bourne is unresponsive."

Brock looks up above the car hood again, but Mercer must be hidden behind the wreckage. "Well, is he dying?"

The question makes her miss a beat. "What's happened in there?"

"It's Rollins. Major chest wound. He's conscious, responsive."

“On my way.”

Brock grabs Jack by the armpits. “I’m getting you out,” he tells him. “Hang on, help is coming.”

Jack’s heavy, but he helps Brock by pushing himself out with his feet. Brock scolds him when he realizes.

“Conserve your energy,” he orders.

He pulls Jack’s body the rest of the way out and lays him out on the grit. In full sunlight, Jack’s wound looks even worse, deeper and painful, and the blood soaking his t-shirt has turned it ugly brown. Brock takes off his own, balls it up and presses it to the wound, trying his best to ignore the unforgiving rays of sunshine burning his skin. His hands aren’t big enough to cover it entirely, so he grabs Jack’s and guides it to his chest for help.

“Put pressure on it, come on.”

Suddenly, Jack’s hand grasps his with a surprising strength, and Brock’s so taken aback that he lets him pull it to his wound right until his fingertips touch the wet flesh; then Brock shakes off his shock and tries to yank his hand back, but Jack’s hold on it tightens.

“Please, it’s important,” Jack rasps.

“What?” Brock asks, but he lets his hand fall limp and watches as Jack guides it toward and inside the wound.

At first, he thinks there might be a splinter of glass hurting Jack that he wants Brock to get out, but then his hand is pushed deeper and deeper between the split flesh, warm blood spilling over it. Jack’s gritting his teeth, and Brock wants to pull back again, doesn’t want to add to his pain, but he’s too afraid to damage him further to let even his finger twitch.

His fingertips touch something meaty and Jack stops pushing. His features smooth out, and he opens his eyes to look at Brock with a gaze that’s not all-there. Fear clutches at Brock’s chest, holds his throat tight, and he becomes aware of his pounding heart.

Jack’s his best friend, and he can’t lose him.

“Feel it?” Jack’s voice is quiet, but clear, and Brock attempts to shake off his fear and focus on what Jack’s trying to show him.

The meaty thing beneath his fingers is moving fast and steady, and when Brock realizes its location, it clicks: he’s touching Jack’s heart. His eyes become oddly wet, his mouth goes dry, words leave him, and all he can do is nod. Jack smiles almost blissfully in response.

“It’s for you,” he says fondly, and Brock feels a very familiar urge to smack him upside the head.

“You fucking idiot,” he chokes out. “It better doesn’t stop, you hear me?”

Jack lets go of his hand, and Brock carefully removes it. It’s wet and slick, blood drying fast and turning sticky, but Brock doesn’t wipe it off, just focuses on trying to suppress Jack’s bleeding. When he looks up, he can see Mercer approaching with a medical kit, and he sighs in relief.

“Mercer’s here,” he tells Jack. Jack can barely keep his eyes open, but he’s watching Brock with a faint smile still present on his face. “She’ll stitch you up and give you more blood. You’ll be just fine.”

**Author's Note:**

> He survives because I say so 😊🤗


End file.
